


Middlegame

by sceawere



Series: Checkmate [2]
Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Anglo-Saxon, Canon Disabled Character, Chess Metaphors, F/M, Mutual Pining, Romeo and Juliet Nonsense, Royalty, Strategy & Tactics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-21 22:52:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14295210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sceawere/pseuds/sceawere
Summary: Middlegame: the portion of a chess game where both players have made their opening moves, completed development of their pieces, and the King is brought to relative safety.Ivar has returned, the Saxons have fled, and his eye is on his Queen.





	Middlegame

Ivar sat on the dock, staring out at the glut of boats before him. His fingers turned over, over, over the piece held between them. The ink was smudged and worn from his work over months. It had bled into the carving below it, melding the symbols into one.

He brought his eyes down to study it again. The thousandth time since it had found its place with him. It had been tucked in his shirt, stuffed in his boot, broken free to skid over almost into the waves that rocked the boat that carried it. He’d almost pitched himself into the water to save it. It lay under his pillow, turned in his hand, sat lodged in a beam in his chariot.

His finger came up to swipe over the broken edge at one side of the crown, snapped into his flesh as he’d grasped it at the news of his mother’s death. He would most likely have to kill her father. Would she hate him after that? Would she forgive him?

He felt foolish, sat around dreaming of her like a child. They barely knew each other. She was a Saxon, a Christian. If he had never met her, he would have thought nothing of her, the same as he felt for all others like her. But he’d felt something, when he was with her. What he imagined his father had felt when he’d met his mother. A fulfilment. Why else would she have been drawn to him if she hadn’t been guided there? The Gods had not made life easy on him but they had given him everything he needed to carve his path for himself. Set the board, ready for him to play. She was a piece in that, he knew it - a piece he couldn’t win without.

He took in another breath, lifting his head to survey the horizon again.

If he wanted a Queen, he’d have to win one.

* * *

“Father!” you grabbed at his arm, pleading with your eyes.

“Please, please” you begged.

He smiled with his whole face, light pouring through his eyes. He was your father as you remembered him, for just a few moments.

“It’s alright” he took each cheek in a palm and dipped to keep eye contact without pulling your face up “this is what I must do. It is time for me to face this part of my life”

“Let me stay with you, please father” you whispered, imploring with him. Your hands came up to grip at his wrists and you wrung them between your fingers.

“No, you must go. This is not the place for you”

“Then where is? A hiding hole? How is that-“ you began to argue but he shushed you.

“There are other plans for you. A whole life, of wonder, and pain, and promise” he smiled again, shaking your face slightly “Promise me child. Promise me that you will have courage, and you will remember all I have taught you. I raised you to be as much of a leader as your brother and if you were ever to shrink-“

“I promise, father”

He let go of your face, dropping his arms.

“Now you must go. Go, now. Go” he nodded you away.

You took a few seconds to run your eyes over his face, trying your best to remember all you could. You both knew this was the last time you would see each other until after both your deaths and your stomach swung over itself as you stepped back. Arms came to grab at yours, leading you away, and you turned your head, deciding yourself what the last sight you should bear of him would be before someone could tear it from you.

From here on out, all choices were yours to be made. You must do as you were told as long as it would preserve you but you would choose how you were to conduct yourself within those barriers.

It was blind panic around you as you made way through the villa with your maids, people rushing about to preserve all they could. The metal at the valley of your chest felt heavier than it had in months and you stopped in the walkway.

“Go ahead with the guards, I must fetch something before we leave”

Most of your maids hurried off, more than grateful of your allowance of them towards safety but one stayed, eyeing you.

“It’s alright, go. I’ll be just a moment”

She made off with trepidation and you waited until she was off far enough before swinging around. No one paid you much mind as you headed towards the room, too busy on their own. There were no guards there this time and you moved straight in. It felt strange to be in here, without him. It had always been bare but now it felt hollow. Your fingers dipped below your neckline for the cord and you had it halfway out before you stalled. You couldn’t leave it here. You couldn’t bear to. You needed to leave a message though.

You dropped the cord, the pendant scraping against your flesh on the way back down as you made your way towards the door again. Your chess set was exactly where you left it, not high on the list of evacuation essentials. You rifled through the pieces, grabbing the queen that was left. You eyed the king as well, a shout outside reminding you of the time constraint upon you. You took it, moving back to the cell.

* * *

Ivar pulled his chariot up at the roll of the hill, looking down at the gates of the holding. It was different to how he remembered, or he was looking at it differently this time perhaps. It seemed still, and hollow. No guards on the wall this time, no echoes of the life beyond it.

The army came up behind him, Floki resting his arm against the edge of his chariot and casting a look to him. They waited, poised, observing. He threw a look down to the streak of white tucked behind the board before him as Bjorn called for the charge. The line surged forward and he readied himself.

* * *

It rained the whole journey east. You were trying to put as much distance between the new King and the raiders’ boats as possible. Try to lessen any advantage they had.

You were sodden by the time you made camp at the holding of a lord, tents and cabins stretched out across the churning mud. It was like the battle camps you’d visited as a child, when your father would sit you at the head of the table and have you survey the maps. He’d quiz you on the wooden figures – what represented who, how many men each little carved soldier represented.

You sat at the side of the king’s table again now, your brother sat at the head instead. The pieces had changed, boats and shields instead of crests. You barely recognised the scene.

You made sure your new, dry cloak was wrapped tight around you as you huddled into the chair, messengers running in and out, busy work through the open wall.

“-and bring them up the river, to here”

The table began to move, men lifting from their seats, and exiting the tent.

“How much of that were you listening to?” your brother asked, his own head bent as he rested his palms against the wood.

“Almost none” you admitted.

He sighed, adjusting a piece slightly, surveying his choices.

“You mustn’t think of it”

“I can’t help it” you whispered, rubbing at your eyes.

“You have the living to consider now”

“He said there plans for me – what do you think he meant?”

He rolled his eyes up to meet yours but didn’t reply. You looked back to the map, the shield laying over the marker where the villa stood. Had he been amongst them? Had he found the pieces you left? Maybe he wouldn’t understand the message. You didn’t fully understand the message. Other than, I’m still here, I remember.

How foolish of you, to think after a raider who came to ruin everything you held. You barely knew anything about him, other than what he’d shown you of himself.

What was that? Untrusting, sarcastic, inconsiderate.

And yet he had trusted you enough to take the medicine you gave him, thoughtful enough to ensure the words he spoke to you were understood in your own tongue, choosing his last act towards you as one of comfort and affection.

You’d dreamt of storms ever since he left, scattered in the scenes of your mind. Men rising from the ocean, burning ships chasing you until you near drowned, something always pulling you to deck at the last moment.

Even the most dangerous of storms must settle. Every boat must come to shore.

* * *

She wasn’t here. No-one was here, but her father, and the priest. Hvitserk had made quick work of him and now the _King_ was in a cage above the burnt hall in which he has once sat himself as a prisoner.

Bjorn had tried to convince him to see passed his feelings, but he couldn’t wipe away the thought of Ecbert handing his father over. He couldn’t explain that he already was over-riding the unsettled feeling in his chest in favour of bringing justice for his father. Whether if she was here, would she have changed his mind was a consideration, whether she would weaken him.

But he couldn’t make decisions based on her alone, not if he was to be a King. He had to think of the people he thought to rule - what would bring him their deference. What would cement him as a leader who could be decisive, who could bring justice, and yes, be cruel when needed.

He could not make her a Queen if he was not a King. He could not give her the kingdom she deserved to rule if he lost it being weak. She hadn’t thought him weak, not even when she sought to aid his pain. He wouldn’t change that.

If she hated him for killing her father, perhaps she could at least respect his reasoning. She would have to see the whole board to understand the move he made. If she didn’t, were they really meant to rule together? Why would the Gods bring him a Queen who couldn’t be strong?

His brothers didn’t seem to understand his ultimate goal. They were acting more like Saxons, considering politics, rather than tactics. He wanted to laugh to himself bitterly. _Is that why you sent her to me? To calm me? To make me consider?_ He wanted to leave this place already, it held no worth to him. He wanted to raid, to search. He wanted to find her.

If they took the land though, legally, then he would have a true Kingdom. A Kingdom she would also hold claim to. A Saxon queen, coupled with their army, now that would hold. He wouldn’t have to consider tearing her away to somewhere she wouldn’t want to be, somewhere she wouldn’t feel welcome. She could stay here, at home. A concession to give her. He could see no better move to make, given the state of the board.

He grew bored of the celebrations and crawled away, through the mainly unburnt part of the palace. What was left of it anyway. He found himself moving towards his old cell, empty now. He was sure it had been smaller but that must have just been his feelings of confinement altering his perception. He dragged himself further in, leaning back against a wall. He’d barely settled when something caught his eye, nestled in the ashes of the hollowed out fireplace.

He set to work travelling through the space, bringing him closer to whatever it was. Once he was beside it he trailed his fingers through the now cold dust, crumbling under his movement. His eyes rolled up to the dim light pouring through the depressions at the top of the room, rays swimming through the thinning smoke.

A King and Queen lay beside each other, coated in residue, but safe from the flames. He lifted the piece that was tucked into his straps, laying it beside the Queen for comparison. The same type. He rolled it into his palm and secured it with his thumb, using his now free fingers to pick up the pieces and bring them to his lap.

He pulled a little smile at the thought that she at least had thought of him as well, that he hadn’t been pining away for a ghost. He lay back, wondering if she still wore the pendant he had given her. He rested the pieces on his chest, turning the King between his fingers above him.

A kingdom. This kingdom. He could see no better move to make, given the state of the board.


End file.
